Fighting the Urge
by ToMyDearestForsaken
Summary: Set after Morgana's recovery from falling down the stairs.  Merlin is fighting his guilt for almost killing her and his frustration with her not being dead.  Those mixed emotions are causing a very...interesting reaction.  One-Shot.  All sorts of lemons.


Merlin was angry.

In fact, Merlin was beyond angry. He was downright furious. Partially with himself, but mostly with Morgana.

She hadn't died. And it was all his fault for saving her.

Of course, he was the one who had almost killed her in the first place. And he almost let her die.

But the suffering on their faces. Arthur, Gwen, even the face of King Uther had made him shudder to see it. His tears were almost unbearable for Merlin to see. And though the dragon had told him what would become of it, he had asked for the cure.

And now he would see the repercussions.

Ever since Morgana had awoken, Merlin had been working his hardest to stay away from the damned witch. He had never been this enraged with anyone in his life, not even the king himself. And he couldn't help it. Every night, he would fall asleep to her body, his dreams filled with nothing but her naked skin slithering against his.

He thought it was some enchantment. He thought she had done something to him to torment him, to make him never forget her face. To make him suffer the guilt of poisoning her over and over again in the most disturbing way she could think of.

And the sad thing was, he would enjoy it.

Those dreams made him more aroused than he had ever been in his life. Merlin finally decided she had to be enchanting him. So he stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped doing anything that he could think of that would be causing such dreams.

After a few days, Gias noticed.

"Merlin?" Gias asked at supper.

Merlin barely looked up from his untouched soup. "Hm?"

"If you don't eat that soup I swear I will tie you down and force you to eat it!"

Merlin sighed, took in a spoonful of soup. "I'm sorry Gias."

"What's ailing you Merlin? You haven't eaten in a week it seems. And you're looking more gaunt than usual."

Merlin laughed at that. "More than usual?" He slurped another spoonful into his mouth, his stomach finally taking over his brain.

"Merlin…what's going on? You haven't been yourself lately."

Merlin stopped in place, spoon halfway to his mouth when he remembered. The way she felt when she undulated against him. The way her lips felt around him. Those damned feather light kisses on his throat that made him want to…

He shook his head. "N-nothing. Just…bad dreams. May I be excused?"

Gias raised his eyebrow. "Finish your soup and I'll leave you be."

Merlin downed the last of the soup, his stomach almost sighing in contented fullness. He was almost out the door before Gias stopped him one last time.

"Merlin!"

Merlin sighed. "Yes?"

"I need you to take this potion to Gwen. She gave me the thoughtfully good idea to keep a spare sleeping remedy in the Lady Morgana's chambers in case she starts having the dreams again." Gias gave the reluctant Merlin the small bottle. "I know you don't want to do this, but Morgana should be gone on her daily ride about now."

Merlin sighed. "All right." And out the door he went.

Merlin knocked on the door. "Gwen?" There was no answer. "Gwen?" He gingerly pushed open the door. "I brought that draft you asked for for…"

He froze.

There was Morgana, sitting on the side of the bed, as if waiting for him.

"Merlin."

Merlin cleared his throat. "Morgana…"

Those ruby red lips were turned up slightly into a sneer, her emerald eyes boring into his blue ones. "How lovely of you to stop by."

Merlin finally moved, slapping the bottle on the table next to him. "Here's the draft you asked for." He turned to leave as quickly as he could.

But he didn't have the chance. The door slammed in his face, and he was trapped. He pounded on the door, but he knew there was no escape. Merlin heard her stand to walk toward him, the swishing of her dress on the stone floor like torturous music.

"I was told that you were the one to find me first…Merlin." She hissed his name like a poison. "It almost makes a girl curious. The boy who poisoned me is the first one to find me bleeding at the bottom of a stairwell."

He could feel her brush against him, her breasts pressing into his back, but there was something else…something hard at his lower back. A dagger. "It makes me wonder how I should get my revenge on you."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about Morgana," he finally sputtered.

"Of course you do," she whispered in his ear. He shivered. "You know exactly what happened. You. Pushed. Me."

With every word, she dug the knife into his back a little bit more until he hissed in pain. She chuckled, a low hum in her throat that only made the growing pain in the front of his breeches worse.

Suddenly, he was flipped around so quickly he had no time to react. His head hit the door with a sickening thud, white spots coming to his eyes.

"You should not have meddled with me Merlin. You should have stayed in your servants quarters where you BELONG!" She thrust the dagger towards his face. He heard the thud of the knife in the wood next to his head.

He looked into her eyes, trying his best to hide his fear. "Morgana…why do you have to do this?" he muttered.

Doubt flashed into her eyes for a split second before she slapped him. "You bastard. You don't dare speak to me like that."

He glared into her eyes. He could feel the bubbling inside him. Something that he had never felt before in his entire life.

Pure, hateful rage.

"You're a hateful bitch."

She made to slap him again, but he grabbed her wrist, flipped her so it was she painfully pinned to the solid oak door. He had made it so both her hands were pinned behind her back with one of his, the dagger in his other hand across her throat.

"You don't even give a damn about your friends. Look at what all these people have done for you. Gias knows about your magic and he won't report you. Gwen knows there is something different and yet she STILL turns a blind eye. Arthur still coddles you and loves you, but he does not know the creature you have truly become."

And if his words had been cut off by the blade in his hand, he fell to the floor, a fire in his groin that could have burned Camelot to the ground. She was on him in an instant, fighting for the dagger that he still had miraculously clutched in his fingers. They rolled on the cobblestone floor, the dagger thrown to the corner of the room. But the two had long since forgotten about the blade. It was now a personal matter of who could cause the most damage to the other with whatever physical force they could muscle.

Teeth and nails, hair pulling and ripping of clothes. Merlin was bleeding from his cheek where her long nails had sliced, bite marks forming on his shoulder. Morgana's lip was bloodied from where the heel of his hand had made contact, and her hair was a flurry of black tangles where his hands had made purchase.

Merlin pinned her to the ground, the collar of her ruined dress in his hands. As he pulled away, thinking himself victorious, he realized what he had done.

He had lost himself the battle with one fatal mistake.

Her breasts were now gleaming in the sunlight, bare and beautiful for his waiting eye. The tension in the air was begging to be ended. Her dress was in shambles, his shirt full of holes and his neckerchief long gone. Her eyes locked onto his, the hatred still there, but it was mixed with another feeling that matched his own.

Lust.

As if the two had thought instantaneously, their lips met with a bruising force, their tongues mating in a primal dance as Merlin ground his pelvis into hers. He grabbed her hair, pulled back as he bit her neck, marking her.

She grabbed his balls with her right hand, squeezing them till it was almost too much for him to bear. He felt her untie his breeches, ran her nails along him once. Pushing her dress up, he ripped through the undergarments beneath.

And then, he slammed his way into her.

Her body was tight around him as he pounded into her, the slapping of their skin the most amazing thing Morgana had heard in her life. He pulled her hair again, clasping his lips on those magnificent breasts. He was on his knees, pressing so deep inside her he could feel where he ended and she began.

Her moans were like a litany in his ears, and he closed his eyes, cast a quick spell around the room to silence their noise from the outside world. She began to scream, her mind reeling from the pleasure that was building below.

His fingers reached for what he had remembered the men in the tavern had spoken of. The 'magic button' as they said. Finding it, he pinched it, pulled up on it.

Her scream of pleasure was nothing compared to the sweet tightness he felt inside her. He pumped again and again, releasing himself in her pleasure.

As quickly as he could, he rolled off of her. Their breathing was ragged, both of them gasping for air at their first coupling. Merlin saw her lift her hand to her eyes, heard her sigh.

She sat up, picking up the remains of her dress, throwing his breeches at him. "Get out." Her words were barely audible, but the anger and embarrassment behind them was clear. Merlin grabbed his ruined shirt, pulled on his pants as quickly as possible, and made for the door.

"MERLIN!" she shouted before he opened the door. His hand on the handle, he waited. Knew.

"This…this never happened," she muttered. "Have I made myself clear?"

He looked back into her eyes. And the feeling she saw in them almost brought tears to her eyes.

It was pity.

But he was gone, making his way down the corridor as quickly as he could, hoping to hide his shame and frustration in the mucking of Arthur's stables.


End file.
